


Guilt and Despair

by spiderman__meadows



Series: Parkner Collection [2]
Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, How Do I Tag, Hurt, Hurt Harley Keener, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Peter Parker Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-13
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-20 21:15:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30011070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spiderman__meadows/pseuds/spiderman__meadows
Summary: Peter blames himselfOf course, he does; there is no one else to blame, he should have been there to protect him, to save him. He blames himself and no one else. And now because of him, Harley is in the hospital bed, bruised and beaten and not waking up.
Relationships: Harley Keener & Peter Parker, Harley Keener/Peter Parker, Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Series: Parkner Collection [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2207391
Comments: 1
Kudos: 35





	Guilt and Despair

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know if I made any spelling mistakes. I'm not the best at spelling and Grammarly can only help me so much lmao

“Spider-man we need to fall back. Iron Lad has been injured.” Tony’s voice came through Peter’s coms.

“What happened? I just saw him a moment ago.”

“The building collapsed on top of him, he has a pretty large headwound. We won’t know the damages until we get him back to Dr. Cho.”

“I will be right there.”

***

Peter blames himself

Of course, he does; there is no one else to blame, he should have been there to protect him, to save him. He blames himself and no one else. And now because of him, Harley is in the hospital bed, bruised and beaten and not waking up.

That’s the worst part of it; not knowing when Harley will wake up. No scratch that; the worst part is not knowing if Harley will wake up. It should be him lying in that bed with needles poking into his arms, a tube down his nose and a machine keeping track of his heart.

His heart beats so calm, so regular yet so unresponsive.

He would give anything to swap places with Harley. He would trade his life for Harley. 

A fair trade.

The only trade

“You should go and get some rest,” Tony’s voice breaks his train of thought, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder that Peter quickly shakes off.

“I’m not leaving,” Peter sharply replies. “I am staying here until he wakes up,” 

“Pete-”

“Just stop Tony,” Peter snaps.

Tony’s eyes widen slightly at his tone, surprised at his sudden outburst. Peter knows he should regret it and apologize. He wasn’t the only one hurting but he is too weak to even care. He simply looks away, returning his gaze to Harley.

“You go rest. I’ll be fine as long as I’m with Harley.”

Tony doesn’t say anything, Peter feels the tension in the air, the unspoken words he knows his mentor wants to say to him but Tony chooses to stay silent to avoid another outburst. Tony stood there for a few seconds before turning and leaving Peter to his thoughts.

Peter felt like he was suffocating, a heavyweight pressing against his chest that barely allows him to breathe. He doesn’t have any kind of emotion apart from wrecking hurt inside him that’s eating him alive. Every single cell in his body stung with blame. His mind fills with the sickening feelings that course through him like acid. 

Guilt. Remorse. Resentment. Regret. Dispair.

One week later Harley still hasn’t woken up and Peter still blames himself. He has cried himself raw, has prayed to any and every god out there that would listen to him. Tried bargaining his own life and soul in return just to see Harley’s eyes, blue and alive. 

But as another week went by and still nothing has changed, except Peter’s mood that shifted from undeniable guilt to unbearable dispair. Not even his team seems to be able to shift his mood. The spark of hope he had clung to was beginning to diminish, withering away with his heart. And even if he tried to force it to beat as steadily as Harley’s on the machine, he could feel it slowly breaking. If only Harley would wake up, maybe he would finally be able to breathe again without the heavyweight on his chest. 

“Here,” Bruce says holding out a hot chocolate. He accepts, although reluctant but glad to have something to entertain his fidgeting hands. Bruce sits heavily on the extra chair they brought into Harley’s hospital room. The chair isn’t comfortable, the knots in Peter’s muscles from attempted sleep can prove that. Peter hasn’t felt the warmth of his bed in two weeks, their bed. The bed Harley and Peter shared. A small price to pay. They sit in silence for what feels like hours. He tries the hot chocolate, hoping it will clear his throat, his mind, his soul. But he knows it won’t help. 

Nothing helps.

Bruce sighs tiredly and pinches the bridge of his nose. He attempts to make small talk but quickly stops when he realizes he won’t get anything out of Peter. Peter didn’t notice when Bruce left, he was too focused on Harley’s fluttering eyelids that threatened to open but never did. Peter moved his eyes to look at the now empty cup. The hot chocolate was bland and tasted more like water but it gradually lifted some of his dullness. Not enough to erase the pain that pricks him like a cold needle. 

“Please, Harley, open your eyes, I miss them,” Peter’s heart cries, tears stinging his eyes.

Two more days and Peter’s guilt is stronger than ever before as Harley lays in the bed immobile. A constant reminder of his failure at protecting him. Scenarios Peter constructed for himself haunted every single waking moment, his dreams filled with terror and guilt only made matters worse. Voices blaming him for not being there, not being quick enough, for abandoning Harley.

You left him! Where were you when he needed you? You failed him.

Peter didn’t need the voices to blame him; he felt the guilt like cold water washing over him, drowning him. A whirlpool of shame, regret, failure and remorse pulling and pushing him around, down further and further until he hits rock bottom. He hears a voice. It’s quiet but feels like a lifeline pulling at him, he grabs it and clings so tightly he doesn’t let go.

Peter…

He holds onto it tighter and tighter.

“Peter?” the voice calls again, the water around him pulling him violently back onto the shore. A hand touches him and Peter jerks awake. He had fallen asleep with his head on Harley’s bed. A hand strokes his face, brushing his hair out of his face.

A pair of ocean blue eyes gazes down at him.

Emotions rush through Peter unrelentingly and the only thing he does is grab Harley’s hand and cries.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I should have been there for you. Forgive me,” he sobs, tears streaking down his cheeks, he tastes the saltiness in them and he can only repeat his words, over and over again. Harley takes his hand out of Peter’s hold and forces him to look up, cold and weak fingers trembling against Peter’s chin. Peter sees him through his tears, a soft smile playing on his dry lips.

“Hey spidey,” he says after clearing his throat and Peter’s sobs soon turn into a fit of laughter as he sinks into Harley’s welcoming arms. As Harley traces Peter’s face, allowing Peter to relax further into Harley’s embrace. A few moments later Harley heard soft snores coming from Peter.


End file.
